Getting Lucky
by artemis-nz
Summary: No matter how hard he tries, Misaki can't resist. Usami/Misaki. Lemon.


"You know, I'd really appreciate some space, Usagi-san."

"Is that so? But you've been reading the same line for ten minutes now."

"Well, if you weren't breathing down my neck, maybe I'd be able to concentrate for a change."

"But Misaki. Your neck is practically begging me to-"

Misaki glared at him and shifted uncomfortably, thighs clenching together as he shifted position slightly. He bent resolutely over his notes again, ignoring Usagi's smug expression.

"Something the matter?" Usagi even had a way of talking that exasperated him.

"No", he replied shortly, and made a point of not moving away when Usagi slid a little closer on the couch. The man had to learn sometime that Misaki wouldn't give in every time Usagi decided to invade his personal space.

"I understand", Usagi purred, "that English can be a… frustrating subject."

Misaki was not about to rise to the bait. He was _not_. "I'll have you know I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

"Really." It wasn't a question. And Usagi must have somehow moved closer again without Misaki noticing, because now his breath was tickling at his ear. "Then how is it you've made a mistake here?"

Misaki looked at where Usagi pointed. "Wha- that's not- my hand just slipped", Misaki snapped defensively. "And please stop trying to distract me from my homework! Can't you see I'm trying to get this done ahead of time for once?"

"Oh? I had no idea you were so diligent a student. Why the sudden change of habit?"

"If you weren't trying to jump me every five minutes, then maybe I wouldn't have to worry so much about handing in my assignments!"

Usagi smirked, and his hand tangled languorously in Misaki's hair. "It's your fault for being so very jumpable."

"Argh! Usagi-san, I'm trying to work here!"

"And it is also your fault", said Usagi, slithering closer still until his lips were not-quite brushing against Misaki's own, "for being so easily distracted."

Somewhere in between that last exchange, Usagi's hand had slid under Misaki's jumper and was resting on his lower back, seemingly innocently. Misaki's skin prickled. He shivered, then tried to cover up his reaction by shrugging off Usagi's grip.

"Fine", he snapped. "I'm going upstairs then."

Far from looking disappointed, Usagi seemed almost pleased. "Whatever you say. But remember this: no matter how hard you try to hide it, I can always tell."

Against his will, Misaki's eyes were drawn to Usagi's predatory gaze. "T-tell what?"

Usagi gave a lazy smile. "You want me. Mi. Sa. Ki." Usagi spoke his name like he was drinking up every syllable of it.

It was suddenly too hot. "B-baka! I'm going! Don't you dare follow me!"

Misaki made more noise than was strictly necessary walking up the stairs, pointedly avoiding the way Usagi's eyes continued to follow him until he had disappeared from view.

Had he looked back, he might have noticed that Usagi's smirk had only widened.

* * *

In the bathroom, Misaki quickly stripped off and washed before stepping into the bath. The water was almost too warm on his already-heated skin, but he ignored it, and soon felt his muscles relaxing as the steam wafted unhurriedly upwards.

Misaki had always enjoyed his baths, even as a child. He remembered, somewhere at the back of his mind, the sounds of splashing and laughter echoing off the bathroom tiles, and the gentle touch of a hand massaging shampoo into his hair. His parents had always had difficulty coaxing Misaki out when it was time for bed; he felt he could still recall, if only faintly, the way he had sometimes held stubbornly on to the sides of the tub as his mother attempted to pull him bodily from the water.

It was the same with Takahiro, only more often than not, Misaki had managed to convince his brother to stay in the water _just a little longer, nii-chan!_, until the bath had finally gotten cool enough for Misaki to want to get out on his own. They had stacked away the toy boats on the bathroom shelves together, lined up neatly beside the soap until the next evening.

These were memories that held no pain for Misaki, but only a vague kind of nostalgia. It was difficult to be sad when the water made him feel so peaceful – and while he no longer had toy boats bobbing on the surface beside him, there still remained something about taking a bath that had never yet failed to instil within him a sense of contentment.

Of course, it didn't hurt that Usagi was not there to wind him up. Even after two years, Usagi knew precisely which buttons to push to get Misaki flustered, and the younger man still found himself rising to the bait even when he knew full well what Usagi was doing.

Misaki sighed and sank lower into the water. The problem, he decided, was that Usagi saw too much. For being such a blockhead all the rest of the time (glasses still tended to explode in the microwave on regular occasions, and there was that one time when he had attempted to deep-fry a chicken), Usagi didn't write novels for nothing. Misaki could have sworn that Usagi knew exactly what he was thinking sometimes, even when Misaki hadn't so much as looked at him. In fact, if Misaki thought about it, the reason Misaki couldn't help but respond whenever Usagi did something – ruffled his hair, or tilted his chin up just so with his fingers, or slid his hand down- no, there was no way he thinking about that right now … the point was, Usagi was too cunning for his own good. He had won almost every confrontation before it had even really had a chance to begin, because he had Misaki wrapped around his little finger.

Well, not tonight. It didn't pay to let Usagi get away with what he wanted all the time – god knew he had a big enough head as it was, without adding to his sense of pride. No, Misaki would not give in to Usagi's teasing, no matter what he tried. Misaki might still be young, but he had grown enough to be able to pay no attention to Usagi if he didn't want to. Even if that idiot author did know the exact spots where Misaki happened to be the most sensitive, if those clever fingers of his were well aware of how best to make Misaki squirm, or his voice whispering seductively in his ear-

"_Misaki_."

Misaki yelped, his eyes flying open. Water cascaded over the edge of the bath. "Wha- when did you- what the hell-"

"That's what you get for not paying attention", Usagi said smugly. He leaned forward to splay a hand on Misaki's chest. "Were you daydreaming about me?"

"As if! And can't a guy have his bath in peace?"

"Not if he stays in there until the water gets cold. I've still got to have a bath too, you realise."

"You could've knocked!"

"But where's the fun in that? You must know I'd never miss the chance to see my adorable little Misaki naked."

"I'm not _your_ Misaki, and now there's water all over the floor!"

Usagi's eyebrows rose. "That would be your fault for not hearing me come in. But if you're that worried, we could always save water by bathing together."

"Usagi-san! Stop it, what are you- hey! Don't touch- and anyway, you've still got your clothes on!"

"The shirt's already soaked through anyway, thanks to a certain someone who always reacts twice as loudly as he needs to. And you won't get out of it by trying to change the subject. Deep down, you don't even want to."

"What do you-mmph! Usag-san-!" It was impossible to talk when Usagi's mouth covered his own like that, this time making tiny goosebumps rise on Misaki's skin. Usagi's waterlogged shirt brushed against him, tickling, diverting his attention long enough for Misaki to miss his chance at pushing Usagi away. The author turned his own attentions towards another part of Misaki's body, and as Misaki tilted his head back to draw in a breath, Usagi took the opportunity presented to him with an appreciative hum.

"Usagi-san, wait, stop it, I- ahh! N-no, I don't want-"

"Liar."

It was getting harder to think. Dammit, Usagi was winning yet again, even after Misaki had been so determined not to give in, and he hated it, couldn't stand it when Usagi was so-

"Ah! U-Usagi-san… please, not there-!"

Teeth grazed against flesh already made more responsive by the amount of time spent submerged. Misaki tried to hold back, and witnessed only his own amplified voice bouncing back at him from the walls.

"Sounds to me like it's exactly there that you want to be touched."

"I- you- I don't-" Usagi was still fully clothed, but Misaki was sure the older man could feel it – the way Misaki, in spite of his best efforts, was responding to Usagi's ministrations. It was just plain _embarrassing_, the speed at which Usagi managed, time after time, to make him react.

_No matter how hard you try._

With a sudden surge of energy, Misaki braced his back and shoved. During the moment when Usagi, not expecting Misaki to try and fight back again, sat up and blinked in astonishment, Misaki shot up out of the water. He took the chance to scramble, panting, out of the bath. Undignified maybe, but at least a lot safer than he had been a second ago.

He took a moment to catch his breath, staring down at Usagi and doing his best to take no notice of the way Usagi's shirt clung to his lover, now all but transparent. He swallowed, feeling the gratification bubble up inside him at having finally resisted Usagi's advances.

"I win", he said, and if he happened to mimic closely Usagi's self-satisfied tone of voice, making the older male's eyes briefly widen in surprise, well, so much the better. As calmly as possible, Misaki turned and picked up his clothes and towel. He took pride in the fact that his legs were nearly completely steady. "Goodnight, Usagi-san. I'll see you in the morning."

He was glad his back was to the bath, so that Usagi could not see him grin.

* * *

It was nearly exactly three hours later, and Misaki was not feeling nearly as self-satisfied.

He couldn't sleep.

Had tossed and turned for what had seemed like forever, in fact, as his ears registered the sounds of Usagi draining the water from the bath; trudge to his bedroom; type something on his computer; light a cigarette. Misaki could virtually see it all play out in his head – inhaling deeply, he thought he could almost imagine Usagi right next to him: the scent of coffee and paper and whateveritwas that made up what only Usagi could smell like, the feel of a hand, heavy but gentle in his hair. The sound of a voice that was deep enough and intrusive enough to make Misaki blush simply by resonance alone, let alone what actually came out of the man's mouth half the time-

Misaki rolled over again, his sheets now hopelessly tangled, and there came a faint click as a light from elsewhere in the house was switched off. Misaki had locked his door, but it seemed as if that precaution had been unnecessary; there would be no late-night visitor to his bedroom tonight, as he had suspected there might be.

Not that he minded, of course. It was far better this way, for Usagi to accept his loss and maybe even begin to respect Misaki's privacy a little more. It wasn't right that Usagi should be able to barge in whenever he pleased just so that he could use his housemate as some kind of personal sex toy. Misaki, for one, was happy that Usagi seemed to have finally gotten the hint and was leaving him alone.

Now if only he could get some sleep, he would consider it an evening well spent.

Misaki gave up after he had silently counted down another hour. Midnight had been and gone, and Usagi, damn him, had no doubt passed out as soon he had gone to bed. And somehow or other, it was all Usagi's fault. His fault entirely, that Misaki was now more awake than he had ever been in his life, even though they both knew full well that Misaki had class early tomorrow. Completely to blame for Misaki's restlessness, the knot at the pit of his stomach only growing gradually by the moment. Usagi's responsibility, that Misaki should now be surrounded by something that made him hot and itchy and more uncomfortably aware of each second that ticked by.

Misaki groaned frustratedly into his pillow, before finally inching himself out of bed. The floorboards were deliciously cool under his feet as he shuffled his way to the door.

He only wanted to see if Usagi really was asleep, that was all.

Usagi had not bothered to close his own bedroom door. From the few inches of space between the hallway and the room, Misaki could make out the shadows cast from where Usagi lay on the bed, flat on his back. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he discerned the movement of the bed covers as they rose and fell with each breath Usagi took.

Misaki entered the room with a practiced stealth. Too slow. Too even. It rattled Misaki even more to know that Usagi slept that peacefully when he himself was having so much difficulty in even getting his heart to steady. It wasn't fair.

Still, watching Usagi for a few moments longer… Misaki could almost (almost) find it in himself to forgive him. Misaki would never have described Usagi as innocent, yet there was something about his face when he slept – the way, perhaps, in which his hair lay carelessly over his face, made him appear younger, more vulnerable. There was no mocking tilt of his eyebrows, no trace of the teasing smirk that Misaki knew all too well. The hint of a smile, maybe… but no, it was just a trick of the light.

Without fully realising it, Misaki had approached the bed. Now that he stood at the foot of it, belatedly wondering when he had arrived there, the next measure was purely logical, and took only a moment to settle itself in Misaki's mind.

Usagi had not given him a goodnight kiss. Inexcusable. And quite simply, the only way to rectify the situation was to steal one.

It all made perfect sense to Misaki's reasoning, the steps lined up like dominoes in his head. Climb on top of the bed without waking Usagi. Kiss Usagi. Climb back down from the bed. Go to sleep, with Usagi being none the wiser. It was an infallible plan. Usagi slept like a log.

He mumbled something unintelligible and turned his head as Misaki crawled toward him. Misaki froze, but Usagi only let out a sigh and continued to slumber. His body lay completely still.

Misaki lowered his head. Why on earth should he be so nervous about giving Usagi a quick peck on the mouth? Usagi had kissed him countless times before and far less chastely, and Misaki himself had kissed Usagi several times now, all while Usagi had been wide awake. He told himself that this should not be any different, although uncooperatively, his breath emerged fast and shallow from his throat.

At the last moment, Misaki could not keep looking. His eyes closed as his head descended the final few centimetres it took to reach Usagi's lips.

A hand darted out to seize him by the wrist, pinning him down. Misaki gave a shriek loud enough to wake the dead and automatically began to struggle before his brain finally registered that it was Usagi who was now speaking directly into his ear.

"I thought", he murmured softly, "that I heard a little mouse sneaking around."

Misaki couldn't move. "I- I-"

"And I did wonder how long you'd be able to resist the temptation. Obviously, I knew you wouldn't be able to sleep. Not after having enjoyed your bath so much."

"You-" Misaki was struck dumb again, this time by Usagi's sheer arrogance. What could have given him even the slightest idea that _he_ of all people could make Misaki-

He opened his mouth to protest this notion, only to hear a strangled gasp take its place.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Usagi's smirk was ten, no, one hundred times, more infuriating than usual. Misaki made to push Usagi away in the same manner he had done earlier that night, but Usagi saw it coming. He had grasped Misaki's other wrist before there had been time to prevent it, and before Misaki knew it, Usagi had claimed him, twisting so that their positions had been reversed. Misaki shuddered at the stare Usagi levelled at him from where he knelt.

"Ah, Misaki. You have _no idea_ how long you've kept me waiting."

Misaki knew full well what that tone of voice meant. Another tremor ran through his body.

He was on the verge of being devoured.

"Usagi-san, wait, I didn't mean-" His words were abruptly cut off as he whimpered, Usagi licking a hot trail down the centreline of his torso. Misaki covered his mouth with his hands, but Usagi _knew_, as he always did.

"Eager, aren't you?"

Misaki shook his head urgently. His denial, however, did not amount to much when Usagi ground his hips against Misaki's, making Misaki bite his lip to suppress the noises that threatened to erupt.

"Fine. In that case…"

Misaki shut his eyes, knowing what was coming next. Usagi was about to kiss him, stroke him, use his tongue to…

When he felt nothing after several moments had passed, he opened his eyes a crack to see Usagi still looking down at him, his expression a mix of thoughtfulness and amusement. He made no move to do anything.

"… What?" Misaki asked when the silence became too heavy.

"Misaki. You're the one who came to me, after all."

"So?"

"So. I think you'd better convince me just how much you want it."

"Idiot! Pervert! _You're_ the one who wants it so badly!"

"Ah. I see. Well then, you won't mind if I just go back to sleep then."

"… Of course not."

It was a blatant lie, and Misaki knew it. The encounter with Usagi in the lounge, and then again in the bathroom, had done its work; his body was not merely itching anymore – it was on fire. He _did_ want Usagi's touch, and he wanted Usagi to touch him until there wasn't a single part of him left to call his own. He wanted Usagi to make him scream.

And he'd die of shame before admitting to any of it.

"Suit yourself. Just don't forget to close the door on your way out."

Misaki could have growled. Surely, Usagi was not actually going to make him _ask_? But it seemed that was exactly what Usagi had in mind. But there was no way, just no way, that Misaki could force himself to say something so embarrassing…

"Misaki."

"I hate you."

"I never said you had to say it."

"What the hell, you perverted rabbit!"

"I just want you to show it."

"I don't…" But Misaki did understand, when Usagi flicked his gaze downwards to Misaki's painfully obvious arousal. Could Usagi actually want…?

A stupid question. There was nothing Usagi did not want, when it came to Misaki. Over the course of their relationship, Misaki had done things and had things done to him that made the blood rush to his face just thinking about it. But Misaki had never touched himself in front of an audience before – even if that audience happened to be the one person who had long since declared Misaki to be his own.

Against all common sense, Misaki found himself wavering. The whole thing would have been so ridiculously _easy_ if it weren't for the fact that Usagi's eyes were-

"Just give in to it, Misaki. You'll enjoy it. That's a promise."

His voice made Misaki desperate enough to push him into compliance, and his eyes flickered shut as his hand drifted hesitantly between his thighs. Somewhere, somehow, Usagi would pay for this.

He was all too aware, even without seeing, that Usagi was watching intently as Misaki tentatively curled his fingers around himself and began to stroke. But when Usagi didn't say anything, still didn't make a single move to touch Misaki himself, it was not embarrassment that was starting to build once more in Misaki's abdomen, but something else equally as familiar. By the time Misaki had managed to put Usagi's roaming gaze out of his mind, that pressure was making him arch his back and mouth Usagi's name to himself as he continued to caress, more urgently now, seeking further stimulation.

"Ah! U-Usagi… san..."

He thought he heard a sharp intake of breath the first time he spoke Usagi's name out loud… but no, it was only the sounds of his own struggles for air, louder and heavier now that the rest of the world had vanished, swallowed up by the feeling that would soon grow large enough to swallow him whole along with it.

"S-stop, no, I'm going to-"

"Misaki… you are so- beautiful." Usagi's voice was halting and pitched even lower than usual. Misaki's eyes flew open as a large hand covered his own, moving with him. It shook.

"Usagi-san-!"

And then he could only moan his pleasure as he felt himself nudged over the edge by Usagi's _handsvoicebreath_, the weight trapped within him finally freed in a rush of viscous heat.

Usagi laced his fingers between Misaki's, holding them together until the fever had dissipated. "Never look at anyone but me, Misaki. Don't let anyone else touch you. Only ever call out my name like that."

"Idiot", Misaki muttered, looking away. "Who else's name would I be calling?"

"Say it again then."

"What?"

"Say my name, again and again until it's the only word you remember."

"… Usagi-san." It was barely audible, but Usagi drew him closer at the sound, and Misaki found he did not care enough to want to resist as he was kissed, melting helplessly into Usagi's embrace at the depth of it.

"I want you, Misaki. Every last bit of you." His hands were moving again, gliding in spiralling patterns and dipping into the natural slopes of Misaki's slight form. They teased at his nipples, coaxing him into repeating Usagi's name a second time before slipping further downwards and retracing the contours of his lower body. He gave a jolt as he felt an alien presence slipping around and inside of him, but then Usagi was the one repeating Misaki's name, refusing to let Misaki dwell on what was happening by directing his awareness elsewhere. Misaki shifted as Usagi suckled at his earlobe and turned to whisper something obscene.

"Usagi-san! Stop it, that's-"

"Exactly what your body wants", Usagi informed him, and Misaki could not contradict him – not when his legs had parted further of their own volition, not when Usagi's mouth was the only thing between him and another hoarse, wordless noise.

His thighs were damp again by the time Usagi pulled away this time, and his hands closed reflexively around Usagi's arms.

"Ahh! N-no… ah!"

Misaki was still writhing powerlessly beneath him when Usagi pushed himself forwards without warning, biting down on Misaki's neck as he did so.

The effect was instantaneous. Misaki wailed both his pain and his ecstasy, quickly becoming entangled in the frenzy that Usagi had wrought in him. His muscles spasmed and contracted as he strove to match Usagi's pace, his fingernails digging half-moons into Usagi's skin. Hips rocking frantically, mouth open to pant, he could not have stopped his cry of release – husky, desperate – even had he wanted to.

His limbs did not cease their trembling even after Usagi, with a muffled cry of his own, had collapsed on top of him; a slick and over-warm weight that somehow made Misaki feel protective. Was this what it was, that drove Usagi to want to possess him and keep him all to himself? Misaki had nothing to compare it to, but his fingers were running through Usagi's hair and brushing the wisps away from his eyes. _Look at me_.

Usagi opened his eyes as though Misaki had spoken out loud.

"I love you", he said, and his voice was completely serious. "I love you." It scared Misaki sometimes, how much force Usagi could put into a few simple words.

_I love you too. Baka Usagi-san. _

"Stay here with me."

"It's too much effort to go back to my room anyway."

"No. Stay with me. Forever."

_As if I could ever stay with anyone else._ "I guess. But only because you would chase after me if I didn't."

"I'm never letting you go."

"… I know."

It was probably just as well, Misaki decided. Usagi would never have been able to look after himself anyway. That was Misaki's job.

Usagi's legs wrapped around him, ignoring the stickiness that still stained them both. "I imagine you can at least get some sleep now."

"And whose fault do you think that is!"

Usagi was laughing at him, Misaki could tell. "Still so energetic. Don't make me take more drastic measures."

Misaki shut up. The problem with Usagi, he reflected, was that he meant every word. He rolled over, turning to face Usagi, whose eyes were already closed.

"You planned out this whole thing, didn't you?" he accused.

Usagi yawned. "Naturally."

"You didn't have to be so honest about it!"

"Hush, or you'll wake the neighbours. If they're not already awake, that is."

And the thought of other people hearing him while Usagi was doing… _that_, to him, was so mortifying that Misaki kept his mouth closed for the rest of the night. He was asleep a minute later, snoring quietly into Usagi's shoulder.

"At least cover yourself so you don't catch cold", Usagi softly chided him. He pulled the blankets up, not expecting a response.

"Usagi… san…"

"Hm?"

But Misaki had spoken his name in his sleep, and did not reply. It seemed even in his unconscious, Misaki was unable to avoid thinking about him. Usagi grinned. He always had done his best work in his sleep, after all.

Now, to work out how best to elicit a repeat performance.


End file.
